Sword Oratoria: Is It Wrong to Try to Pick Up Girls in a Dungeon? On the Side Volume 4

A wave of voracious heat mushroomed out from the impact zone, practically
throwing them backward. The flaming sparks exploded into cinders that rained
down from the sky, staining the faces of Bell, Hestia, and Aiz—now a safe
distance away—a brilliant crimson.

The crackling embers bloomed around them.
For a moment, at least, the obsidian attackers had been shaken off, lost in the
sea of flame brought to life in that small street corner.
“I…I cast a spell without chanting…”
“You’ll wanna report that. Someone’s going to be pleased as punch.”
Meanwhile, the five attackers leisurely walked out of the flames, not
bothered in the least by the magic attack of a low-level adventurer. The four
prums even had strangely pleasant smiles on their faces.
Aiz readied herself, but just when it seemed it would return to blows, the five
assailants lowered their weapons.
“That’s enough. We’re leaving.”
At the young catman’s command, the four prums scattered.
Fearing the flames would draw unwanted attention, they moved quickly to
retrieve the black-clad soldiers Bell had trounced earlier.
Aiz saw no reason to recklessly pursue their attackers. She did, however,
keep Desperate at the ready even after they disappeared from view, waiting until
their presences were far, far away before finally letting out a sigh.
Sliding her sword back into its scabbard, she made her way over to where
Bell and Hestia were staring blankly, completely overwhelmed.
“Are you injured?”
“I-I’m fine! I’m more worried about you, Aiz…”
“I’m also unhurt.”
Aiz glanced at Bell, Hestia still fretting over him.
Though Bell’s magic hadn’t done any real damage to the attackers, that didn’t
mean it had been pointless. In fact, his move had helped her out of a pretty tight
situation.
Aiz still found herself a bit in awe at the boy’s unique fast-casting magic
she’d first witnessed down on the tenth floor. She parted her lips in thanks…only
to see the white-haired boy avert his eyes, softly biting his lip as though
something still weighed on him.
It was a curious look, and Aiz found herself wondering what it could mean
until he opened his mouth.
“Those people…who were they? And why would they attack us like that out

of the blue…?”
Bell asked with a sort of forced composure, as though hiding his feelings.
The way he was acting bothered Aiz, but she responded to his uneasy

question all the same.
“Surprise attacks like this aren’t uncommon.”
“They aren’t?!”
“No. Though it is rare outside the Dungeon…”
While Bell yelped with surprised, still ignorant when it came to power

struggles between factions, Aiz’s mind raced with questions once more.
Had they been targeting her while she was cut off from the rest of her

familia?
She thought back to their warning. Had she pissed off some faction without

realizing it? And had Bell and Hestia simply gotten caught up in the whole
thing?

She certainly couldn’t think of anything she’d done that would warrant a
vicious attack like this, but the fact that she’d put the other two in danger filled
her with self-reproof.

“Can you think of anyone who’d wanna attack you, Wallen-whatever?”
“…Too many, in fact.”
Aiz was hesitant to answer so directly but also realized it wasn’t exactly a
secret with her familia.
“Geez! Must be tough in Loki Familia,” Hestia muttered in awe as Aiz
thought back to her attackers’ warning.
“If you get in her way—we’ll kill you.”
Still unsure what the young feline could have been referring to, she tucked
the words away for later all the same.
Retaliating at the faction level would only exacerbate the situation,
something she was sure her opponent was trying to avoid, as well.
Which meant she’d need to leave it be for now, as much as it left a foul taste
in her mouth.
The flames from Bell’s spell had calmed down to something on the level of a
bonfire. People were starting to gather, though, so Hestia suggested they
skedaddle.
Aiz nodded, hoping to avoid any unnecessary trouble herself. Still
exchanging words with the young goddess, she started toward a small alley.
—Only to realize Bell wasn’t following them.
“…?”

Still rooted to the spot, he was simply staring off into space.
“What’s wrong…?” Aiz called out behind her.
Bell turned around with a start. “Huh? Ah, no, it’s…it’s nothing. Nothing at
all.” He quickly dashed over to them.
Aiz glanced in the same direction Bell had been so intently staring.
Toward the center of the city.
Where the tall white tower gazed down at the trio from its spot in the night
sky.

“Ottar’s somewhere in the middle levels?”
Raul Nord, member of Loki Familia, spun around.
It was evening, only two days remaining until the expedition.
They were in Guild Headquarters, currently teeming with adventurers on

their way back from the Dungeon. Armor-clad demi-humans bustled around the
wide marble lobby as they went about their business, whether it be cashing in
their monster loot, reporting to their advisers, or collecting rewards for
completed quests.



Standing in front of the giant bulletin board that was decorated with official
Guild proclamations and quest notices, Raul turned his gaze toward the
incoming bearer of information.

“Is that true, Aki?”
“Yes. Well, at least that’s what a couple of adventurers were saying earlier.
Not sure how much stock you put in it, but quite a few folks have seen him
now.”
The cat girl in black—Aki—flicked her slender obsidian tail that was the
same color as her waist-length hair.
A number of Loki Familia adventurers were at the Guild collecting intel that
could prove useful during their upcoming expedition.
Irregulars along their planned route, overlapping schedules with other
factions, potential presence or absence of floor bosses—investigating these
things was important work and couldn’t be neglected if they wanted to ensure
their expedition’s smooth progress.
And it was this exact job that’d been entrusted to Loki Familia’s lower-
ranking members.
“Mister Rauuuuuul! Looks like ol’ Goliath’s reared his ugly head on the
eighteenth floor again. Everyone’s just lettin’ him be, assuming we’ll take care
of him as we go through.”
“The Guild’s saying Babel can’t get all the salamander wool and undine
robes we ordered! What should we do?”
“Just…just hold on a second, will ya? Give me a moment!” Raul thrust his
hands out to stop the barrage of incoming information, his brow furrowing in
overwhelmed aggravation as he pleaded silently for a chance to collect himself.
Raul Nord. Human. Twenty-one years old.
His big forehead was crowned with a crop of spiky black hair. A man of
medium build and average stature, his features only further emphasized his
humanness and utter ordinariness. Even now, standing flustered in front of his
companions, he made for a fairly boring, uninteresting addition to the familia.
That being said, he was still a Level 4, second-tier adventurer.
Born the third son of a poor farming family, before he was even eight years
old Raul made what he called “the biggest decision of his life” by leaving his
country home. Like so many others, he arrived at Orario filled with big dreams
and just a little manly ambition. Before long, he found himself inducted into
Loki Familia.
He turned out to be a natural, and by forcing his way onto the battlefield

behind Finn and the others, Raul got to where he was today. For a reason even
Raul himself couldn’t fathom, first Finn, then the other elites in the familia
began putting a great deal of trust in him, which was why he often found himself
tasked with supervising other lower-ranking members, whether in administrative
tasks like this or dealing with issues in the Dungeon.

That same human, so scatterbrained when compared to the pioneers of such a
great familia, was currently attempting to prioritize the incoming information
from his fellow familia members one at a time.

“Uhhh…Right! Aki! We were talking about Ottar…”
“He’s been spotted hunting monsters around the seventeenth floor these last
couple of days. Right, Leene?” Aki turned to glance at her colleague next to her.
The bespectacled girl with her hair pulled back in a braid responded with a
nod and a hesitant “Y-yes.”
Ottar the Warlord…captain of Freya Familia and the strongest warrior in all
of Orario.
At the same time, he was one of Loki Familia’s longest-standing foes.
Ottar had commanded the top spot on the familia’s blacklist for as long as
Raul could remember.
It seemed a bit strange that Freya Familia’s captain, of all people, would be
camping out in the middle levels where he’d overpower every monster he came
across…
“…What’s that guy up to, I wonder.” Though even as he muttered it under his
breath, Raul knew there was no one in the vicinity who could supply him with an
answer.
The other familia members around him glanced back and forth at one
another, starting with Aki, who simply shrugged her shoulders.
“What’s goin’ on here, huh?”
“Ah! Sir Gareth!”
The dwarf made his way through the hustle and bustle to where they were
standing next to the giant bulletin board.
Gareth was one of the heads of Loki Familia, and the great dwarf warrior
exuded the aura of a seasoned soldier. He naturally drew the gazes of the nearby
adventurers, their eyes filled with a kind of awe.
Raul filled the dwarf in about Ottar.
“So the old bloke’s muckin’ about the middle levels? Hmm…Bah! I wouldn’t
give it a thought!”
“Really?”

“That’s right! Don’t let it bother ya, yeah? Even if the fella’s there on official
orders, he’s not one to favor plannin’ ’n’ all that. I don’t think we’ve got to worry
about him interferin’ in our expedition,” Gareth mused. “’Sides, what with the
Guild encouragin’ exploration in the depths, he’d be takin’ a risk himself
attackin’ a familia doin’ just that,” he continued, running a hand through his
beard.

Raul and the others found themselves agreeing with the old dwarf—he was
one of their familia’s leading authorities. Of course, thanks to Aiz’s silence, none
of them knew about the vicious attack against her that had occurred just the night
before, which meant they weren’t particularly on guard when it came to Freya
Familia.

“What brought you here, then, Sir Gareth?”
“Right! Got done carryin’ everything back to the manor. Expedition’s gonna
start right on time the day after tomorrah. Gotta inform the Guild, y’know?”
Raul and company followed Gareth to the counter in the lobby as the dwarf
filled them in on the familia’s preparations. It seemed everything was in order,
including the weapons—and the magic sword—from Hephaistos Familia.
When a high-ranking faction such as Loki Familia went on an expedition, it
was essential that they report the details to the Guild—everything from their start
date to how long they planned to stay down in the Dungeon. They were a
valuable military power to Orario, after all.
If something happened to them and they didn’t return from the Dungeon, the
Guild would oftentimes send in search-and-rescue parties.
“By the way, how’re you kids doin’, huh? Restin’ up properly ’n’ all that?”
Gareth turned toward Raul and the entourage of other familia members trailing
behind them.
“Ha…Ha-ha-ha…Ha-ha-ha-ha-haaa…” Raul laughed weakly.
Even with the expedition right around the corner, he and the other low-
ranking members were finding every chance they could get to train, none of
them wanting to look bad in the face of Aiz’s recent level-up. As they walked,
Aki looked purposefully in the other direction, and Leene refused to meet
Gareth’s eyes.
Gareth, in turn, could do nothing but sigh, the same as a certain high elf had
earlier.
“I’ve already gotten an earful from Mister Bete, actually…” Raul admitted.
The memory of the werewolf standing over him with a sardonic laugh as tears
pricked the corners of his eyes was still fresh in his head.

“Ain’t gonna do ya any good now, moron!”
“He and Miss Aiz…they went up against some pretty powerful enemies
down on the twenty-fourth floor, didn’t they?” Raul whispered quietly in
Gareth’s ear.
It took Gareth a moment, but finally, he nodded. “…Aye, they did.”
As one of the familia’s elites, he’d already heard all about the incident a few
days prior.
“Bete hasn’t changed a bit since they got back,” Raul muttered, thinking back
to his show of arrogance—par for the course for him—back in the manor.
Gareth, however, remained quiet. He knew that the werewolf had actually
been training harder than anyone else the last few days.
Blaming himself entirely for what happened, and stubbornly hating to lose,
he’d been exercising on his own in secret, careful to make sure Raul and the
others had no idea what he was doing.
And Gareth had been helping him train in a little shed just outside the city in
the wee hours of the morning.
“Haah…Kids these days…”
“?”
Gareth let out a deep sigh, to which Raul eyed him curiously.
Before long, they made it to the counter where a young receptionist sat
waiting.
“Report from Loki Familia. Just wanted to let ya know we’ll be settin’ off on
our expedition in two days like we tentatively reported. Here’s our application.”
“Wonderful! Understood.”
Misha Frot cheerfully replied as she accepted the application parchment from
Gareth.
She was a short little thing, reaching only 150 celch, topped with a mop of
pink hair. Answering Gareth with a youthful voice that matched her cherubic
face, she rose from her chair and straightened her posture.
Placing one hand over the other with a smile, she gave the dwarf a deep bow.
“We will be awaiting your safe return. May the fortunes of war shine upon
you.” It was a prayer for the brave adventurers’ triumphant return, spoken not
only as an employee of the Guild but as a fellow citizen of Orario.
Then she stamped the expedition application form with the crimson Guild
seal.

“Loki Familia’s expedition will be carried out as planned.”
The nearby torchlight responded with a spark.
The voice of the elven Guild master, Royman Mardeel, echoed throughout

the dim underground space. The floor was covered in large slate blocks and four
torches illuminating its large altar, giving off the feeling of an ancient temple.

His corpulent, fleshy body, completely unbefitting of an elf, knelt in front of
the colossal two-meder figure of Ouranos. The old god nodded slowly from his
seat at the center of the altar.

“You may leave.”
“Y-yes, my liege.”
As the austere voice of Orario’s founding god boomed around him, Royman’s
bulbous body quivered. Silently, he stepped back from the altar, making his way
out of the chamber and back up the stairs to the surface.
Ouranos remained motionless in his spot atop the great stone pedestal, his
blue eyes staring after Royman’s retreating form long after the other man had
left.
“…They’ll be going through with it after all?” came a voice from the
darkness once Royman was out of earshot.
It was Fels who stepped forward, dark robe slicing through the veil of
concentrated darkness in the corner of the chamber.
Blackness shrouded the cloak all the way down to his ornately patterned
gloves, leaving absolutely no skin visible. Fels was like a ghost in the flickering
torchlight—appearance, race, sex, every possible aspect was left as an enigma.
“Indeed. It would seem Loki, too, desires information on the recent string of
violence,” Ouranos replied without even turning his head.
Thus began the colloquy between the venerable god and his closest adviser,
deep in the prayer room below Guild Headquarters.
“What do you think, Ouranos? Could the key to everything truly lie within
the Dungeon’s depths? On its fifty-ninth floor?”
“That is what I believe, though I cannot be certain.”
“A god’s hunch, sir?”
“Yes.”
Their words were short, punctuated with flickers from the nearby torches.
At Ouranos’s terse response, Fels nodded.

“Understood. Shall I arrange for a set of eyes to watch them? I’m sure
whatever is down there will be of great interest to us.”

“See that you do,” Ouranos replied to the black-robed Magus’s suggestion.
“Allow me to go over all our information. Let me know if I’m missing
anything.”
At the old god’s nod, Fels continued from within the folds of the shadow-
filled hood.
“First, we have what was revealed to us on the twenty-fourth floor by that
creature-woman with the red hair, Levis.”
“The one manipulating the viola and protecting the crystal orb…”
“Indeed. In addition, if we believe what we learned from the ringleader of the
Twenty-Seventh-Floor Nightmare, the reanimated Olivas Act…both the fetus
and the vibrant magic stones within that new species of monster all originate
from the being referred to simply as ‘her.’”
“She” was the one who had revived Olivas Act from the abyss of death by
implanting within him a vivid magic stone, giving birth to a new human-monster
hybrid. The red-haired woman, Levis, was also such a creature. By assimilating
magic stones, she and her kind could morph into all-powerful enhanced species
—beings that surpassed the limits of both mortal and divine knowledge.
It seemed these creatures, “her” especially, had used their ability to control
monsters and set off this string of incidents dating all the way back to the
Monsterphilia.
“‘She’s sleeping deep within the earth,’ ‘She wants to see the sky’…That is
what Olivas Act said according to Hermes Familia. From that we can infer ‘she’
inhabits the Dungeon’s lower depths…”
“Then is she like the monsters of the Ancient Times, craving the light of the
upper world?” Fels responded to Ouranos’s words with a well-placed
conclusion.
There was a high chance that whatever awaited Loki Familia on the fifty-
ninth floor, where the creature Levis had directed Aiz, had something to do with
“her.”
“The relationship between Aiz Wallenstein and the crystal orb is but one
piece of the puzzle.”
“…”
Aiz had reacted so strongly upon first coming into contact with the fetus back
in Rivira on the eighteenth floor, she’d collapsed. The fetus, too, had responded
to Aiz’s magic.

At Fels’s words, Ouranos ever so slightly averted his eyes.
Enshrouded in deep shadows broken only by the flickering torches, he stilled
his tongue as though searching his thoughts for an answer.
Fels continued in spite of the old god’s brooding silence.
“Next, we have the remaining Evils. While we do know they’re ghosts from
ages past, we don’t know who is leading them. All we can confirm is that they
were seen capturing violas on the twenty-fourth floor and carting them off to
who-knows-where.”
The many factions that sided with both them and the Guild had conspired
against and destroyed this radical group.
Under the direction of gods who referred to themselves as “evil,” they’d
stood for the downfall of order, inciting rebellions all across Orario with
schadenfreude as their one clear objective. They simply wanted to watch the
world burn.
The Evils familias had been eradicated, and every single one of the “evil
gods” sent back to the heavens. It wasn’t clear whether these newly discovered
“remnants” were actual survivors of the group or simply recent followers eager
to carry on their work.
Everything about the group remained a haze—how many familias were
connected to it, the organization’s scale, and even the gods leading it were a
mystery.
“Forces on the surface cooperating with ‘her’ and her followers below to
obliterate Orario…Could this be what’s tying all these events together?”
“It would come as no surprise to me if the remnants of the Evils had an
alliance with the underground powers…or perhaps were being used by the
underground.”
Fels’s voice reverberated across the altar, then Ouranos’s.
It could very well be that the two groups, Levis’s followers and the Evils
remnants, were both using each other, but before Fels and Ouranos could reach a
conclusion, there was an interruption.
“…May I ask you something, Ouranos?” Black robes swishing, Fels turned
toward the venerable god in his spot atop the altar.
Ouranos replied affirmatively with a simple turn of his head.
“During the incident on the twenty-fourth floor, the red-haired woman uttered
the name of a person…Well, the name sounded very much like that of a god—
Enyo.”
It had been among the information they’d received from the chienthrope.

“—While not complete, it’s grown enough! Take it to Enyo!”
That was what Levis had said to that figure in the mask and hood—possibly
one of the Evils—upon acquisition of the crystal orb.
“This ‘Enyo’ is probably an important character. Does the name ring a bell?”
Fels asked in an attempt to confirm Lulune’s report.
“…I don’t recall ever having heard of a god by that name,” Ouranos replied
before continuing. “However…the word enyo does exist in the language of the
gods.”
His blue eyes narrowed.
“It means ‘destroyer of cities.’”

It was the day before the expedition.
Which meant it was the last day of training.
Two shadows overlapped atop the stones of the great wall on the city’s outer

rim, bathed in dawn’s first light from the east. The woman, long golden hair
spilling out behind her, struck forward again and again, and the boy, white hair
fluttering this way and that, followed her every movement in fierce pursuit.

They performed violent back-and-forth offense and defense between
scabbard and dagger as they had each day before.

As the magnificent dawn cresting the far mountains painted Aiz’s face, she
studied the boy in front of her.

Each time she went for an opening, he blocked.
As she raised the speed of her attacks, the number of his blocks increased.
It was the defensive technique she’d taught him.
Repelling enemies’ attacks from the side or an angle, rather than from the
front.
In terms of defense, he’d certainly met his goal for their training.
The boy put everything he had behind his strikes, behind the technique he’d
seen, felt, and learned over the course of their duels.
“—Nngh!”
There was a kind of brazen vigor imbued in his skill with the dagger.
Even as the relentless string of attacks carved away at him, he kept up his
blocks, deflecting blow after blow.
And then.

The boy did more than defend. He attacked Aiz for the very first time.
“…!” Aiz’s eyes opened in surprise.
Bell’s dagger streaked at her, its blade flashing beneath the morning sky.
It was easy to block, but that didn’t change the fact that the boy had been able
to get a strike in at all.
Aiz stared at him wordlessly. The boy’s breathing was haggard, and his
dagger arm hung limply at his side.
His body was littered with bruises, but his face held the same look of
determination he’d had since their first day, rubellite eyes shining with an
unfading brilliance.
All of a sudden, the morning sun beamed toward them, the resulting radiance
flooding Aiz’s field of vision with white.
The boy stood there, haloed in pure-white resplendence. A sort of euphoria
escaped Aiz’s lips at the sight, and she smiled from the bottom of her heart.
“That’s it, then, I guess…” Aiz whispered with a sigh.
The sun was already peeking over the majestic mountains of the eastern sky,
almost like a signal that their week of training had come to an end.
Aiz turned toward that sight, squinting at daybreak’s glorious fire. The boy
did the same before turning back to her and bowing his head.
“Thank you. Thank you for everything,” he said, bending at the waist and
facing the stone beneath his feet.
Their one week together had been short. Too short, it seemed, and as Aiz
looked back over their seven-day tryst, she felt her heart and mind flood with
emotion.
She hadn’t uncovered a single thing about Bell’s uncanny growth. However,
without even noticing it, she’d learned how enjoyable it was watching him
improve from one day to the next, what it felt like to have her heart flutter, and
the pure bliss that came from knowing she could teach another.
And for Aiz, who’d known nothing but combat for as long as she could
remember, this made her happy.
It had been a path of joy and sorrow, frantic worrying, despondent
wallowing, profound thinking, and utter happiness that had brought the two of
them to this point.
She embraced this time, this irreplaceable moment they had shared, deep
within her heart.
After a while, Bell rose, his white hair fluttering in the breeze and making
him look even more like a rabbit than usual.

Their eyes met.
“I would also like to thank you. It was…fun,” she said quietly, voice
reverberating with a warmth that surprised even herself as her eyes softened.
She smiled once more, the two of them bathed in morning’s first light.
Bell’s face instantly reddened, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly as
he stared at his feet. Seeing this only made her smile widen. If there was one
thing that hadn’t changed during their week of training, it was his constant
embarrassment.
Who knew the white rabbit could be so shy?
“…Good luck…with everything.”
“…Thank you.”
Aiz slowly tore her gaze away before turning around.
It was time for the two of them to begin running again. With those last few
words, she began to pull away, knowing she’d regret it if she allowed herself to
pause here.
This wasn’t good-bye.
From here on out, the two of them would be facing their own objectives,
aiming for their own separate peaks.
“…”
Aiz walked a few steps along the top of the wall glowing in sunlight, then
slowly turned back around.
The boy had already turned his back to her, far off now as he ran along his
own path.
Inhaling a deep breath of all that vast morning blue, she curled her lips into a
smile.
“…See you again.”
And then, turning her back to the boy, she ran.

Her sunny-blond ponytail spilled out behind her as she dodged.
Deep below the surface, closed off from the sky, her voice sang out,

reverberating off the Dungeon walls. Again and again the sword flew at her, but
her voice never faltered.

Staff clenched in her hands, Lefiya wove her spells, her lips constantly
moving.

Stepping, evading, dodging the relentless attacks of the golden-haired,

golden-eyed swordswoman, she took advantage of every opening she found,
taking only the minimum hits necessary to keep the incoming strikes from
influencing her chants.

Just like the first day of their training, she refused to back down or close her
eyes in fear.

She focused on every attack, vision wide, picturing her next movement in her
mind to ensure the words of her chant remained unbroken.

Deep inside her she could hear the words of her many teachers.
The soul of an unshakable tree and the chanting techniques she’d learned
from Riveria.
The Concurrent Casting Filvis had helped her master.
She threw everything out in front of her in a single attack on the
swordswoman she so revered.
“Loose your arrows, fairy archers. Pierce, arrow of accuracy…”
In a dance, she wove her song between the steps of her opponent’s sword
waltz.
As the magic circle formed beneath her feet, Lefiya completed her chant,
unleashing the spell.
“—Arcs Ray!”
A brilliant arrow of light shot forth from the circle.
Aiz stepped deftly out of the way as it shrieked by to explode against the
Dungeon wall.
Chunks and pieces of the wall went flying as smoke rose up from the
resulting rift. The damage was great, greater than before—evidence of her
increase in magic strength from her training with Filvis two days prior.
“Whoa…” Aiz let out an awed mutter of surprise as the two of them stared at
the wall.
The elven magic user herself just smiled faintly at the improvement in her
Concurrent Casting, her breath still ragged.
“Impressive, Lefiya. You’re really getting the hang of this.”
Lefiya laughed bashfully. “Only…thanks to everyone’s help, truly. The credit
isn’t mine to claim…”
She wouldn’t have been able to master the skill if even one of her teachers
had been missing.
Everything was a result of her practice duels with Aiz and Filvis as well as
Riveria’s tutelage. They were the women who had guided her as she’d fought so
desperately to keep up.

“Of course it is,” Aiz countered with a smile in response to Lefiya’s red-faced
modesty.

Aiz’s heartfelt praise, however, made Lefiya only more embarrassed.
“Miss Aiz…I have been working very hard so that I can support you and the
others in the expedition,” she explained, hugging her staff to her chest as she met
her tutor’s gaze directly.
She didn’t want to waste what Aiz and everyone had done for her or slow
them down. She wanted to be helpful and make a difference.
“I know.” Aiz nodded at the elf’s bold-faced oath of determination.
Lefiya could see her own conviction reflected in those golden eyes.
Then finally, her lips parted. “Could I ask…What’s become of that human?”
The area around Aiz’s eyes softened. “He’s also been trying very hard.”
It was the day before the expedition, so this would be both Lefiya’s and the
boy’s last day of training.
Aiz’s face had appeared refreshed, almost invigorated after ending her early
morning training session with that boy. Her usually stark, emotionless features
were tinted with joy.
“I see…” Lefiya answered quietly at Aiz’s response, both verbal and visual.
Lowering her gaze, she focused instead on the bluish-white pallor of the magic
stone affixed to her staff.
She’d never quite been able to erase that boy from her mind.
Even now, at the end of her training, she couldn’t keep herself from thinking
about him.
“What with the expedition tomorrow, why don’t we head back early?”
At Aiz’s suggestion that they vacate their Dungeon training room, however,
Lefiya’s head rose, and she interjected with another suggestion.
“Actually, I…I would still like to do a bit of fine-tuning on my own.”
“Sure…It’s fine. Just don’t push yourself too hard, okay?” Aiz responded, not
pressing her further.
She excused herself from the room, almost as though sensing something in
the elf’s demeanor, and left Lefiya alone among the phosphorescent walls and
ceiling.
She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.
At length, she began to perform once more, staff gripped between her hands
and the songs of her people on her lips.
Periodically double-checking her movements, periodically releasing a beam
of light at an oncoming monster, she trained.

As long as time permitted, she reviewed and practiced again and again and
again.

“…I should head back,” Lefiya muttered some hours later as she drew a
pocket watch from her clothing and checked the time.

Her silver elven pocket watch, crafted to resemble a tree and leaves, indicated
it was already well into the evening hours.

Shutting the lid with a snap, Lefiya took off for the exit, stopping just in front
of the door for a last look at the room where she’d spent so many hours training
during the past few days.

I learned so much here, she thought with a faint smile. This would be the last
time she’d leave.

“Perhaps I stayed a bit too long…” Lefiya mused before leaving that western
room on the Dungeon’s fifth floor and dashing toward the surface.

Thinking back to how enthusiastically she’d taken Aiz’s words to heart, she
returned to the floor’s main route, currently flooded with other people. She
progressed to the upper levels, taking out the odd monster or two and passing a
good number of her fellow adventurers along the way.

Maneuvering through Onset Road, as the large passageway on the first floor
was called, she proceeded up the spiral staircase to the large hole that led to the
surface and emerged on the ground floor of Babel Tower.

She was just about to make her way through the gate and into the sprawling
Central Park when she ran into a familiar face.

“Ah!”
“Ah!”
Their short cries of surprise overlaid each other as their gazes met.
She saw those unforgettable rubellite eyes and hair as white as virgin snow.
He hefted a giant backpack on his shoulders and stood beside a young
werewolf girl with long grayish-brown hair. One of his adventurer companions?
On his way back from the Dungeon, no doubt, he appeared completely spent,
but after crossing paths with Lefiya, the two of them stopped short.
The werewolf girl eyed the two of them curiously as other adventurers
bustled around them.
Lefiya was the first to move.
Eyebrows rising, she raised a slender finger and pointed it with an almost
audible SNAP at the bemused boy.
“I won’t lose!”
The boy simply stood there, bewildered, with his eyes as round as saucers.

Lefiya ran.
Out through the gate, into the park as the eyes of the baffled werewolf girl

and her fellow adventurers seared into her back.
The conviction she was saving for tomorrow’s expedition and the resolution

she’d made to that boy.
Holding those two feelings close, she bolted through the square that was all

awash in reds. In and out, in and out, she weaved through the crowd.
She ran toward the fiery crimson of the setting sun and didn’t look back.

“If you would, please, Lokiiiiiii!”
“Fer cryin’ out loud! Just how many of you guys are out there?!”
Night had fallen.
A mighty roar bellowed from Twilight Manor, home of Loki Familia.
The cry originated in Loki’s bedroom atop the centermost spire in the

outcropping of towers. A line of the goddess’s precious little followers had
formed outside her door at the peak of its winding staircase.

“This is ridiculous! How could this many of ya need yer Statuses checked?!
The night before the expedition, even—good grief!”

It was true—every single one of them was waiting for a turn to update their
Statuses. Men and women alike had flocked to Loki’s tower in hopes of applying
their excelia before tomorrow’s expedition.

Loki had specifically warned them not to wait until the last moment to update
their Statuses in order to avoid this, but her advice had fallen on deaf ears.
Consumed by the need to train, they’d beaten themselves up, polished their
skills, and collected every last bit of excelia they could until the last second
possible. Though the feeling was understandable, so was Loki’s lament.

“Damn training craze, damn Aizuu…” Loki cursed the golden-haired airhead
under her breath as she diligently went to work updating Statuses for that girl’s
brethren. She wasn’t about to turn them away, given even the tiniest boost could
mean the difference between life and death on the rigorous expedition ahead.

“Gods-dammit! Not even enough time to cop a few feels!”
“Thank yoooooou!”
Loki could practically feel tears of blood running down her face as she
remorsefully watched a beastwoman exit the room with her tunic removed,

taking that smooth curve of her back and those beautiful breasts with her.
It was a veritable frenzy, and she barely had room to breathe. No matter how

many of her followers’ Statuses she updated, the line outside her door refused to
shorten. That was the problem with having a big familia—it was a lot of work,
too.

The short hand of the clock made first one circle, then two as it neared
midnight.

“I’m…I’m done!”
As the last gentleman took his leave with a word of thanks, Loki gazed out at
the complete lack of people in front of her door.
Pushing it closed, she heaved a sigh that was equal parts delight and relief.
Not more than a second later, the door burst back open, almost as though it’d
been planned.
“Yo, Loki! Update my Status, will ya?”
“Guh…Beeeeeeeete…” Loki collapsed onto her bed upon the young
werewolf’s entrance. “Can’t ya see I’m dyin’ here?”
“How the hell was I supposed to know, huh?” Bete responded, indifferent to
the silent tears Loki cried into her bedsheets. He pulled a chair over next to her
and sat himself down.
“If only I coulda ended with someone like Aiz…Least then I coulda gotten a
little thrill as a reward. But no…It had to be Bete…” Loki grumbled to herself.
“Screw you.” Bete pulled off his battle jacket. “It takes you, like, one second,
so just do it already!”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Bete turned his bare back to Loki, surrendering himself to the goddess’s
touch.
Unlocking and quickly raising the crimson hieroglyphs on Bete’s back, Loki
proceeded to update his Status.
“Comin’ here after everyone else has already left…You wouldn’t happen to
be trainin’ by yerself all secret-like, are ya?”
“How the hell did you know?!”
Loki just snickered. “My little secret.”
The goddess out of sight behind him, Bete didn’t even try to keep the
exasperation from his face.
She grinned to herself before running her finger, wet with ichor, over his
back.
“I bet some of those kids who’re scared of ya now would come right up to

you if they knew ’bout your secret training sessions. So out of character,
y’know? Some people go fer that. That’s a comfortin’ thought, ain’t it?”

Bete let out a sharp laugh. “What do I care about making friends with
weaklings?” The werewolf so feared by everyone beside the familia elites
simply scoffed, briefly muttering, “Stupid,” as Loki’s finger continued to flow
across his back without pause.

His amber eyes stared angrily at the far wall.
“It’s us strong folks’ duty to look down on the small fries from on high. Our
right.”
“…”
“If we don’t laugh and spit on ’em, who will? We’ll just end up with a
buncha idiots who don’t know their place,” Bete continued, voice dripping with
irritation. “They should be lookin’ up to us so much they break their necks.
Those namby-pambies…They’re so weak, it’s disgusting.”
Though he didn’t say it explicitly, it was clear his words were aimed at the
throng of familia members desperately struggling to catch up after Aiz leveled
up.
Loki was silent as she listened, staring at Bete’s finely chiseled back and the
faint scars that covered his skin. She closed her eyes before letting out an abrupt
puff of laughter.
Finishing his Status update, she translated the results into Koine.
“Yer abilities have really shot up, Bete.”
“How much?”
“’Bout three levels.”
“Shot up, my ass!” Bete snatched the translated update results from her hands
with a howl.
“Nah, come on! Fer a Level Five to get these kinda results on their own, it’s
really somethin’!” Loki assured him with a laugh.
The werewolf just huffed and puffed, his eyes burning holes through the
form. “This ain’t shit…”
Glancing around at the wine bottles and other knickknacks proliferating
Loki’s room, he lit the candle on her desk before burning the update form.
“…Yeah, yeah, we get it. You’re a tough guy.”
As Bete pulled his jacket over his shoulders and headed for the door, Loki
called out from her place on the bed.
“Tough enough to protect everyone down there. You’ll do that fer me, yeah?”
Who knew how many dangers awaited them on their upcoming expedition?

As the goddess’s words reached his ears, the werewolf stopped in the doorway
and glanced back over his shoulder.

“…Ha. You didn’t choose a buncha asses, ya old hag.”
Now it was Loki’s turn to look surprised, rarely as it happened. Bete just
grinned.
“They may be chumps, but they ain’t cowards. They can take care of
themselves.”
Loki looked long and hard at her ever-disobedient child.
Then she smiled.

She woke up on her own.
It was morning. The day of the expedition.
Aiz slowly cracked her eyes open at the sun filtering in from the crack

between the curtains.
Pushing herself up from her bed in her room at the manor, she threw a glance

first at Desperate leaning against the wall, then out the window, her eyes
narrowing.

There was nothing but clear blue sky as far as the eye could see.

“Leeeeet’s do this!”
“Do you have to be so loud? Just shut up and get ready…”
Tiona and Tione emerged boisterously from their beds in their two-person
room.
It was time to get their things ready. The expedition they’d been waiting for
had finally arrived. As the older of the two wrapped her battle clothes around her
ample chest and slender legs, her younger sister—already changed—opened up
their chest’s shelves and began tossing items out left and right, stuffing anything
they might need into her pack.
As Tione grumbled and complained, the floor quickly became buried in
Tiona’s possessions.
Her pareu swishing back and forth, Tiona turned finally to collect her large
double-edged sword from its spot against the shelf.
“This expedition is our chance to catch up with Aiz!”
She gripped the oversize weapon by the handle, its blades glinting with a
brilliant luster.

“Lefiya, I’m heading out!”
“Ah! All right! I will be there shortly!”
Lefiya hurriedly returned to her preparations as her roommate stepped out the
door.
Turning to the mirror, she set to work on her long golden hair, holding the
silver barrette accessory between her teeth to free her hands until she could tie it
back in her usual ponytail.
Once everything was secured, she took a last look in the mirror and nodded
with a little “Okay!”
“…”
She rose from her chair with her staff, Forest’s Teardrop, already at her side
and glanced down at the palms of her hands.
As though checking the magic strength her brethren—no, her friends—had
bestowed upon her, she squeezed her hands into tight little fists.
Then, head popping back up, she slung the cylindrical supporter’s backpack
over her shoulder and took off out the door.

“Ah! Bete!”
They were out in the garden of the manor, carting some of the large-scale
cargo and other materials.
The lower-ranking members of the familia were at work gathering everything
from tents and spare armor to the thirty-plus weapons (magic sword included)
they’d be taking on the expedition, inspecting and organizing everything
accordingly.
Everyone, willing or not, was nervous and excited about the big day, and in
the midst of all the chatter, Raul, in charge of instructing his fellow familia
members, spotted Bete emerge from the tower’s entryway.
His gauntlets and silvery metal boots shone brightly in the sun.
“G-good morning!” Raul took the initiative and greeted the werewolf, easily
the most restless of all the other first-tiers.
“Well, aren’t you all takin’ yer sweet time?!” Bete spit his response at both
Raul and their surrounding colleagues.
They visibly shrank back, since Bete himself was already greatly feared
among the lower-ranked members, and Raul could feel the sweat forming on his
temple as he forced a laugh.
“Ah-ha-ha-ha…”
In spite of everything, the fact that Bete was no different from normal even

before the big expedition was almost strangely calming.
“Aiz and the others aren’t here yet?”
“Th-they aren’t, sir! I’ve received word that Miss Tiona and her sister are

currently eating breakfast in the mess hall, but it seems Miss Aiz is still in her
room,” Raul continued, pushing forward despite the surrounding atrophy.

Bete came to a stop. “Really? She’s not gonna eat anything? That goddamn
woman…” he muttered, cursing under his breath as he turned around and headed
back the way he’d come.

Raul didn’t know if the werewolf was on his way to eat or headed up to Aiz’s
room, but either way, as he watched Bete walk away, he found himself thinking
the strangest thought.

What a nice guy…

“…”
Finn was down on one knee, hand to his chest in his room, located in the
manor’s northernmost tower.
He was silent, eyes closed, a grand tapestry covering the wall in front of him
and a statue of a goddess occupying a spot atop the nearby shelf.
Both the tapestry, woven in gold and silver, and the plaster statue, a spear in
its hand, portrayed the same woman—the fictitious though greatly worshipped
goddess of the prums, Phiana.
“You up, Finn?…Oops, sorry. Didn’t mean to intrude.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m finished.”
Gareth and Riveria made to leave as soon as they saw Finn kneeling in front
of Phiana, but Finn stopped them before they could retreat, opening his eyes and
pushing himself to his feet.
Concluding his prayer, he turned away from his beloved goddess to face his
two closest friends.
“Prep work’s finished. Everything’s packed ’n’ good to go.”
“Understood. Thank you, Gareth.”
“We were hoping to have a final meeting before heading out. We need to
organize everyone into the two parties we’ll maintain until the eighteenth floor,”
said Riveria.
Finn walked over, and they formed a circle. The three heads of Loki Familia
quickly busied themselves making their final check before the expedition.
“How is everyone doing, Riveria?” Finn inquired, wrapping up their meeting.
“I worry about their constitution, considering how much they’ve been

training lately…but I don’t see it becoming a problem. They’re all in top
physical condition.”

“We got ourselves a bunch of young hot shots, that’s why. Morale is high.”
As voices began drifting in from the direction of the garden, Gareth crossed
his arms in front of his chest, eyes narrowing.
“Aiz and the rest of the young’uns have finally grown up…Just us three
fogies still around to remember what it was like back then,” he mused, thinking
back to when their familia had first formed.
“We’re not retired yet, Gareth,” Riveria replied, closing her eyes with a
smile.
As Finn looked up at the two of them, he felt his expression slowly change.
“The day has finally come. Today, we’ll take on the unexplored depths left to
us by Zeus and Hera…If we prove successful, our names will be known across
the world once more.”
There was a glimmer of steadfast resolve in the prum’s green eyes, the strong
ambition to restore his race’s renown in the back of his mind.
“You haven’t had enough yet? There isn’t a prum around that doesn’t know
your name, Finn,” Riveria commented.
Finn, however, just closed his eyes and shook his head.
“As far as famous prums in Orario, I know only Bringar of Freya Familia…
But as for my brothers who live outside the city, I have very little renown.”
The number of prums with any sort of reputation in not only Orario but the
whole world was few enough to be counted on one hand. As Finn relayed this,
his eyes dropped to his fist.
“Prums need a chance to shine, an opportunity to wave their banner of
courage.”
They had to have the kind of hope personified in Phiana, who had supported
them since the Ancient Times.
And we’ll spare nothing, no matter the sacrifice, as long as it’s for the sake of
that hope—his heart added.
“It doesn’t end here. No matter what awaits, I shall press forward.” Finn
raised his head, resolve coursing through his petite figure.
Gareth looked down at the tiny adventurer and stroked his beard with a laugh.
“Good gracious…You really haven’t changed a bit, Finn. More ambition in
those pint-size bones of yours than some men got in their whole bodies. And
never givin’ a damn what others think about it, either!”
“And here I’ve been trying to mellow out,” Finn responded with his

shoulders slouched.
“You, Finn? Don’t make me laugh!” Gareth’s lips turned upward together

with his beard.
As Riveria gazed down at the two of them, a nostalgic look came over her.

“…To think that the three of us who used to do nothing but quarrel among
ourselves would spearhead a Dungeon crawl together. A funny world it is
sometimes.”

The proud, versatile high elf; the crude, disparaging dwarf who hated her;
and the prum stuck between them, a never-ending stream of sighs passing his
lips.

As the three of them thought back to the days that led them to this moment,
they shared a sudden smile.

“Let’s do this, yeah? It’ll be a breath of fresh air,” Gareth said, extending an
arm.

Finn and Riveria, despite their wry smiles, imitated the dwarf and dropped
their hands atop his in the center of their circle as though they had planned to.

The same ritual they’d performed so many moons ago on the day of their
oath.

It was Loki who’d forcibly encouraged the three of them to put their
bickering on hold long enough to join hands like this and share their aspirations.

“To heated battles.”
“To an unknown world.”
“To the revival of my race.”
The dwarf, elf, and prum spoke in turn before bumping their fists together.
Their intentions spoken, it was time to end their walk down memory lane and
become the familia leaders they were.
“Aiz and the others will be waiting. Shall we go?” said Finn.
Riveria and Gareth nodded, and the three left the room.
“Speakin’ of…Finn, how goes, uh, that other objective of yours?”
“Yes, your successor…A bride who can produce an heir.”
“Unfortunately, I’m not exactly blessed when it comes to romance. If you
two happen to find anyone nice, do introduce me?”
“Tione would murder me. I must politely decline,” replied Riveria.
“Same here, friend,” added Gareth.
The three demi-humans chatted idly with spear, ax, and staff in hand as they
made their way over to their waiting comrades.

Sunlight poured down on Central Park from the clear blue sky above.
It was the intersection of Orario’s eight main streets, making it a hub for

adventurers even in the early morning hours.
Armored boys, girls, and heroes alike passed through the square on their way

to the Dungeon, their supporters trailing behind them. In the midst of the swarm
of races on their way to the great white tower, Aiz, too, found herself heading
toward that great skyscraper.

After gathering everything in front of the manor, Finn led the Loki Familia
troupe to Central Park via North Main Street. Accompanied by load after giant
load of equipment and materials, they stopped a short distance from Babel’s
northern entrance and awaited further orders.

Even crying children were silenced by the sight of their flag, emblazoned
with the emblem of the Trickster. As the largest familia in the city, they drew
attention and buzz from all sides as they stood there waiting for the command to
depart.

“Oh-ho-ho! If it isn’t the Sword Princess! Been a while since we crossed
paths. How ya been?”

“Miss Tsubaki…”
Aiz was staring up at Babel and its backdrop of blue sky when Tsubaki’s
voice sounded out next to her.
She glanced over to find Tsubaki Collbrande, ever-present eye patch over her
left eye, closing in on her with an amiable smile on her face.
Just as Aiz was wearing armor and bearing her sword, Tsubaki was bedecked
in her own Dungeon gear. Her armor was a mix of island and continent styles—
bright-red pleated trousers from the East called hakama concealed her legs from
the shins up, while battle clothes covered her upper torso and ample chest. On
top of that, she wore gauntlets and shoulder protectors.
Her upper and lower halves were every bit a fusion of East and West.
At her side in its obsidian scabbard was her long tachi. Accompanying her
were the many High Smiths who would be joining the expedition.
The confederation of Hephaistos Familia and Loki Familia was complete.
“It will be a pleasure working with you,” Aiz began, having been told by
Riveria some time ago that the smiths would be joining them.
“You bet! Just leave things to me! No need for the fancy words, though!
We’re itchin’ to get down there, too, so we’re scratching each other’s backs for

sure,” Tsubaki responded good-naturedly, not even trying to hide her own
familia’s intentions.

Aiz could only smile wryly at the other woman’s boisterous laughter.
All of a sudden, Tsubaki looked away with an “Oh!” of surprise.
“There you are, Bete Loga! You break that Frosvirt of yers again, and I’ll
never forgive you, ya hear? I had a hell of a time fixin’ it!”
“Whoa, whoa, whooooa there! I hear ya loud and clear, okay? I won’t break
it! Damn! Get away from me!”
Eyes locked on Bete, Tsubaki made a beeline toward him. He cried out, beads
of sweat dotting his temples as the smirking woman closed the gap between
them far too much for his comfort.
Aiz looked on curiously as the fearless spectacle drew the awed gazes of
everyone around them, only to be approached by a new shadow.
“How fares the Sword Princess, hmm?”
“…Miss Lulune?” Aiz turned around to find herself face-to-face with the
young chienthrope girl. She stared at her in puzzlement, with no clue as to what
a member of Hermes Familia would be doing there. “Why are you here…?”
“Thought I’d wish you well and all on your expedition, I guess. You have
saved me more than a couple of times in the past.” Apparently she’d determined
just when the two familias would have some free time before departing for the
Dungeon and timed her entrance accordingly. Though she quickly added that she
had no intention of overstaying her visit lest she trouble the actual expedition
participants.
“Take these. A little something to eat I like to bring with me when I’m
exploring ruins. One of these’ll keep you full for a whole day. And, uh, don’t
worry—there’s nothing weird in ’em or anything.”
“…Thank you.” Aiz smiled softly at the offered pouch of block-shaped
rations.
While members of both familias were currently absorbed in the exchange
happening between Bete and Tsubaki, Lulune plopped the bag into Aiz’s hand—
with an unexpected clink.
Concealed beneath the bag was a single crystal.
“From our friend in the black robes,” she whispered so softly only Aiz could
hear.
“!” Aiz’s eyes widened with a start.
“Black robes” could mean only one person—the hooded character Aiz and
Lulune had both been seeing more and more of recently.

Aiz had trouble containing her surprise as she looked down at the blue crystal
—a request from the mysterious shaman.

“I checked it out already with Asfi, and it seems pretty normal…Seems our
friend just wants you to have it on the fifty-ninth floor, is all,” the thief
explained, recounting what she’d been told as she discreetly handed Aiz the
crystal. “Toss it if you want. Your call.” After she finished speaking, Lulune took
a step back.

Aiz found herself at a loss, which only made Lulune laugh, her brow
wrinkling.

“I really did just wanna come see you off, though, you know…even if it may
not seem like it with the request and all. Once you come back, we’ll go for that
drink, got it?” Her tanned skin flushing slightly, she brought a finger up to
sheepishly scratch at her cheek. “Catch ya later!” she finished before turning
around and walking off with a swish of her tail.

Aiz watched her disappear into the crowd, then she returned her gaze to the
pouch—and crystal.

The orb itself was tiny and blue, connected to a chain. After a moment’s
glance, Aiz fastened it to the loin guard of her armor.

Did she completely trust that hooded figure? No. But this was a good-luck
charm given to her by a friend who came all the way down here to see her off.

The little blue crystal glittered atop the silver gleam of her loin guard.
“Was that Miss Lulune just now? What could she have wanted with Miss
Aiz?”
Lefiya ruminated on this as she caught a glimpse of the exchange between
Lulune and Aiz.
Surrounded by Tiona and Tione—who were endlessly chattering—and the
other familia members, Lefiya cocked her head to the side in curiosity.
“Miss Lefiya!”
“Hmm? Miss Amid?” She turned around to find a beautiful silver-haired
human with features so delicate they resembled a doll’s.
The Dian Cecht Familia healer bowed her head, having joined the group via
Northwest Main Street.
“I couldn’t be here waiting for you on account of Miach—I mean, a certain
familia taking up my time with their new merchandise contract, but it seems I’ve
still made it on time. This is for you.”
“Are these…potions?”
“They are, indeed. Our very own high-magic potions.”

Amid handed her a small pouch filled with a variety of test tubes.
At the surprised expression on Lefiya’s face, she continued. “A farewell gift
for your expedition, yes?”
“Amid! You came to see us off! But what gives? How come only Lefiya gets
a gift?” Tiona butted in, overhearing Lefiya and Amid’s conversation.
“Surely someone like you doesn’t need potions, Miss Tiona,” Amid
responded with a little snicker.
“What’s that supposed to mean?!”
“I was merely joking,” the healer replied before she pulled out an even larger
pouch than the one she’d given Lefiya. “You’ll find a few high potions and
elixirs inside. Share them with everyone, would you?”
“Thank you, Amid. This is wonderful. And so many, too,” Tione replied
appreciatively, to which Amid only shook her head.
The kindhearted healer looked at each of them in turn before offering them a
deep bow.
“May the fortunes of war shine upon you,” she said before taking her leave.
Lefiya, Tiona, and Tione glanced down at the healing items they’d received
before raising their voices in thanks.
All around them, too, similar exchanges were taking place.
Personal acquaintances and friends alike showed up to send off their Loki
Familia comrades with a smile and a few words of encouragement.
Humans and demi-humans from all around were there to support and salute
the adventurers on their journey to the unknown.
“Brothers! Sisters! The expedition begins now!” Finn called out from in front
of the assemblage.
Everyone turned to face the familia leader, Babel to his back and Gareth and
Riveria to either side.
“We’ll be splitting into two parties as we enter the Dungeon! Riveria and I
will lead the first, and Gareth will be leading the second! We’ll rendezvous on
the eighteenth floor and continue together to the fiftieth floor! Our goal? To
venture into the unexplored depths—the fifty-ninth floor!”
Everyone’s ears—Bete’s, Tiona’s, Tione’s, Lefiya’s, Tsubaki’s—buzzed with
Finn’s proclamation.
As Aiz joined the others watching the three familia leaders, her mind was
already racing at the thought of what awaited them in the den of monsters
beneath that great white tower.
Within the Dungeon’s dark depths below the earth.

“You are adventurers! Warriors no less brave than the heroes of old! Conquer
the vast unknown and return with fame and fortune!”

From the main streets, the square, in every corner and window, citizens,
adventurers, and everyone else in Orario watched over them, eager to see Loki
Familia’s departure.

“Sacrifices will lead to nothing but false honor! Everyone, pray with me
now! Make an oath to the light of the surface—you will come back alive!”

As the members of both familias raised their fists, Finn sucked in his breath.
Then, as though communing their short departure with the blue sky stretched out
above their heads, he gave the order.

“Expedition team—move out!”
Their battle cry shook the very heavens.
Aiz stared at the sky overhead, surrounded by the shouting cries of her peers.
Loki Familia’s expedition had begun.

“This is gonna be interestin’!”
The manor’s central tower…
Having sent Finn and the others off from their home earlier, Loki now stood

on the roof, looking toward the city’s center as the cries of war echoed around
her.

“Could it be calamity that awaits them? Or perhaps…”
The underground shrine beneath Guild Headquarters…
Ouranos turned his brine-colored eyes skyward as the torchlights flickered
around him.

“Yes…Show me.”
And atop the highest floor of the great white tower.
Unbeknownst to all, the beautiful goddess smiled down on them.

Thus, the threads of a new Dungeon epic were spun beneath the gaze of the
gods.

The majority of the two factions’ heavy hitters were in the vanguard party—the
first team to dive into the Dungeon.

Given how unpredictable the Dungeon was, it would be their job to take care
of any Irregulars that popped up along their route. They would act as advance
troops, ensuring the safety of the heart of the expedition by clearing the way for
the party following them with the materials and spare equipment.

Those on the vanguard team led by Finn and Riveria included Aiz, Bete,
Tiona, Tione, and seven more of the familia’s most distinguished first-tier
adventurers. They were joined by a slew of second-tier adventurers, such as
Raul, who’d be acting as supporters.

Gareth, the remaining first-tier adventurer, as well as Lefiya and the other
magic users, would follow behind in the second larger party.

“Hey, hey, Tione! What are all those people from other familias doin’ here?
They’re not, like, supporters we’ve hired or something, are they?” Tiona asked,
glancing behind her. The two parties had split to avoid the chaos of the narrow
upper-floor passageways as they made their way into the Dungeon. She’d only
just now noticed Hephaistos Familia smiths traveling along behind them.

“Don’t be an idiot, Tiona. Have you already forgotten what happened during
our last expedition?” her sister replied in exasperation.

“?”
“They’re smiths, Tiona,” Riveria explained with a great deal more politeness.
“Ah!” Tiona burst out, suddenly understanding. Considering she’d played no
part in the expedition preparations—and consequently knew nothing of the
trouble that had gone into them—she’d had no idea members of Hephaistos
Familia would be joining them.
Ten Hephaistos Familia smiths had joined the fifteen Loki Familia
adventurers. The smiths had been split up between the two parties with their
captain, Tsubaki, accompanying their current group as a member of the
vanguard.
“That’s pretty crazy, though, you know? Hephaistos Familia High Smiths?
Together with us?”
“Yes, and Lady Hephaistos is doing us a big favor, so let’s try and avoid any
blunders, hmm, Tiona?” Finn responded with an amused laugh, watching the girl
spin about excitedly at the news of their new companions. He’d been the one

who’d gone to Hephaistos directly, after all.
“I know, I know!” Tiona replied with a laugh of her own as she sprinted

ahead to wrap her arms around Aiz’s shoulders from behind. “Did you hear that,
Aiz? Huh? Huh? High Smiths from Hephaistos Familia are joining us!”

“Yes, I heard…Pretty neat,” she responded playfully to the naive Amazon
hanging off her back. Like the others, Aiz already knew that the smiths would be
joining them, but she couldn’t keep a smile from gracing her lips at Tiona’s
enthusiasm.

They soon arrived at the Dungeon’s seventh floor.
Surrounded by the greenish walls and ceilings of the Dungeon’s
passageways, they continued along unhindered, their cheer almost strange
considering the fact they were on an expedition.
“Hell yeah! If they’re from Hephaistos Familia, we at least don’t hafta worry
about them slowin’ us down! What a relief!” Bete bellowed next to them, his
ears twitching, which garnered a laugh from the High Smiths behind them.
“There it is! Bete’s famous ego!”
Tiona narrowed her eyes at the werewolf’s pompous grin.
“Is it even possible for you to be nice, Bete? Do you get some kinda thrill
looking down on everyone else? I hate people like that!”
“You got it all wrong! You actually think I like looking down on bottom-
feeders? Don’t make me laugh! All I do is call it like I see it,” Bete responded
with a snort, explaining himself the same way he’d done for Loki only the night
before.
Still attached to Aiz’s back, Tiona let out a squawk of anger that sounded
very much like a monkey.
The werewolf’s goading only elicited angered grumbles from those around
them.
This was a sight they were more than used to.
“What can I say? I can’t stand weaklings! Lookin’ at ’em floundering away
makes me laugh so hard I can’t stop!”
“That sounds like nothing but the arrogance of a strong man looking down
his nose at others,” Riveria responded.
Tiona added, “True! You were one of those ‘weaklings’ once, too, you
know!”
“I’m just sayin’ they need to know their place, is all!”
As Aiz listened to the three of them squabble, a thought came to her mind.
Know your place—the thought morphed into words that she muttered beneath

her breath.
One’s place. It was neither pitying, nor insulting, nor shocking. It was simply

something you knew.
It was the same thing that had been hammered into that boy so many times

he’d verbally renounced his place. What had been running through his head?
How had he felt? What was it that had pushed him to that point?

She thought of those rubellite eyes she’d seen back at the bar, liable to burst
into tears at a moment’s notice.

How had he overcome things after being looked down on, scorned, spit on by
Bete? Or perhaps it was that very contempt that spurred him forward?

Had he hated himself so much that his anger became a spring, propelling him
steadfastly, obstinately higher and higher?

Wait, could it be—?!
What if that boy’s goal he “needed to accomplish at all costs” included Bete
somehow?
For some reason, the shock hit her with a slam! She found herself suddenly
unable to support Tiona’s weight, staggering forward. Ignoring the other girl’s
curious expression, Aiz attempted to keep her knees from collapsing.
I’ll have to ask him sometime…she thought even as her hair stood on end at
the possibility she had stumbled upon. She lowered her gaze, memories of her
past week with the boy trickling through her mind.
I wonder what he’s doing right now…
Perhaps he was still running the same as he always was.
Maybe fighting with the things she’d taught him in his thoughts.
His face flashed through her mind, just a little bit tougher than it had been
before, when suddenly, her head shot up with a snap.
“…Seems like there’s four of them.”
“Huh? Is this what they mean when they say ‘speak of the devil’?”
Tiona, who was still glued to Aiz, and Bete both reacted.
Everyone’s eyes turned toward the right-hand side of the oncoming
intersection, where four adventurers quickly drew near, looking decidedly worse
for wear.
They were throwing furtive glances behind them, almost as if they were
running away from something.
“Hmmmm? They look in a hurry. Think we should see what’s wrong?”
“No. Parties aren’t supposed to interfere with one another within the
Dungeon.”

“Hey, guuuuys! What’s up?!” Tiona called out to the quartet, ignoring her
sister’s restraint.

“…Idiot.”
Finally noticing Aiz and the others, the surprised adventurers came to a halt
in front of them.
“Wh-who’re you? W-wait a minute! The Amazon?!”
“Is that Tiona Hyrute?!”
“Which can only mean…Loki Familia! I-it’s their expedition!”
Upon realizing their identity, the quartet immediately began shrinking back.
“Come ooon! Why is it always me…?” Tiona grumbled to herself at the use
of her alias and the fear behind it. The speaker’s eyes were still fixated on her.
Bete, on the other hand, turned to the four to ask what they were doing.
They were briefly indignant at the werewolf’s scornful inquiry…but then
they seemed to remember their situation, bodies giving a tremble.
“…There was a minotaur!”
“…Huh?”
“A minotaur, you fool! That great bull of a monster was prowling around the
upper levels!”
Bete came to an immediate stop at the adventurer’s strangled, cracking voice.
The others, too, were overcome with a kind of shocked pallor. For a mid-
level boss to be appearing on the upper levels was an irregularity, indeed.
Aiz felt her right arm begin to tremble at the mere mention of the word
minotaur.
For some reason, the image of Bell’s face welled up inside her once more.
“…I apologize, but could you perhaps give us some more details? Please tell
us exactly what you saw,” Finn said, speaking for the rest of the group.
“S-sure…” replied what seemed to be the leader of the quartet before
beginning his story. “We were exploring the Dungeon, same as always, when we
saw him—a minotaur! In one of the passageways between the rooms,” he
continued, face pale. “He was…attacking some kid with white hair! We’d have
done something, but one howl from that beast and we got the hell outta there!”
—BA-DUMP.
Aiz’s heart gave a jump inside her chest.
It felt like her entire body was suddenly soaked in sweat.
Forgetting to breathe, she desperately tried to comprehend the words she’d
just heard.
A kid with white hair…a human?

The more they spoke, the fiercer, more painfully her heart pounded.
No longer able to keep herself out of the conversation, she pushed toward the
adventurers.
“The minotaur! Where is it?”
At the sound of her voice, everyone stopped.
Tiona, Tione, the adventurers, and the entire expedition.
Time itself seemed to come to a halt before the swordswoman’s
bloodcurdling gaze.
“Where did you see that adventurer being attacked? Tell me!”
“Th-the ninth floor…but you’ll have to hurry…”
She ran.
No sooner had the words reached her ears than she was off, racing at
lightning speed down the passageway the adventurers had come from.
“Aiz?!”
“What the hell are you doing?!”
But Tiona and Bete were already far behind her.
Ignoring her comrades, forgetting the expedition entirely, she listened to only
the accelerated pounding of her heart.
She was spurred on by emotion, by confusion, by a sense of impending
danger.
That thing—it’s attacking him!
She didn’t have time to check if the information was true or not. All she
could do was run, her feet slamming against the earth.
Bisecting any monsters unlucky enough to get in her way, she didn’t falter,
didn’t lose steam. Straying from the standard route, she found herself on the
aforementioned ninth floor in the blink of an eye.
The moment the Dungeon’s walls changed, an unnatural silence struck her
ears.
Total quiet.
As though every monster had hidden itself away and stilled its breath in fear
of some maverick beast.
No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than the roar of a crazed bull
echoed through the far-off passageway, confirming her fears.
No!!
In the midst of the fading cry came the faint sound of a person’s scream. Aiz
felt her blood begin to boil.
There was no doubt about it. That was Bell being attacked.

A Level 1 adventurer like him would be helpless against the minotaur. No
matter how much he’d trained with Aiz, the levels of their abilities were worlds
apart.

She was fighting against the clock now. Every second counted.
Still uncertain as to the boy’s exact location, she relied solely on sound as she
sprinted through the maze—only to come face-to-face with a prum covered in
blood.
“?!”
“P-please…H-help…!”
Blood poured from the gaping wound on her forehead. As she let out her
desperate plea, she slumped to the ground at Aiz’s feet.
Tears clouding her unfocused chestnut eyes, she placed her hands on the
ground and continued with a haggard bellow.
“P-please save him! Save Master Bell!”
“!!”
Grief flooding through her, Aiz knelt down to take the girl into her arms.
“Where is he?”
“On the…standard route…Room E-16…” She lifted a trembling hand to
point in the direction behind her, relaying the area number designated by the
Guild’s map data. And, indeed, droplets of blood speckled the ground,
highlighting the path the prum had taken in her search for help.
Aiz took off with a grunt, carrying the girl in her arms.
She raced past room after room, the passageway’s phosphorescent glow
lighting her path.
“Help…Please…” Continual, incoherent mumbles came from the prum in her
arms. Aiz tightened her grip, fingers digging into the girl’s side and heart
weeping as she followed the trail of blood.
Just when she’d plunged into the final room before her destination—
“—Stop.”
There came a single command.
“—”
At that one word, Aiz screeched to a halt.
She was in a large rectangular chamber devoid of monsters or her fellow
adventurers. There was only him, standing in the middle of the room.
His mighty, armored frame like a megalith. His height spanning well over
two meders.
His four brawny limbs rippling with muscles like steel.

A pair of boar-like ears, evidence of his boaz heritage, underneath his
cropped rust-colored hair.

And his eyes, the same color as his hair, directed straight at Aiz.
“…The Warlord.”
Aiz’s eyes flashed as she took in the sight before her.
As though in response to Aiz’s hoarse whisper, the man’s eyes narrowed.
The captain of Freya Familia—Ottar.
A first-tier adventurer and the mortal enemy of Loki Familia.
Why is he here—?
Aiz found herself at a loss, unable to comprehend the situation.
It didn’t make any sense. What was he doing here, and why would he be
trying to impede her way?
As the weak breaths of the girl in her arms reached her ears, an
uncharacteristic level of emotion permeated Aiz’s features.
The boaz warrior was simply standing authoritatively in the center of the
room.
He was in front of the only road leading to her destination, his giant back
blocking the entrance to the passageway. His armor was unbelievably thick, and
an enormous knapsack was slung from his left shoulder.
As their gazes intertwined, he took a hold of the bag with his boulder-like
fingers and tore it from his back.
Clang, clang, clang! From the torn cloth rained a multitude of weapons,
falling to the ground with a ferocious series of clatters.
“I challenge you…Sword Princess.”
“?!”
Aiz’s bewilderment became all the more apparent.
Ottar, on the other hand, simply reached down to grab a giant sword from the
pile and silently pulled it from its sheath.
“Why are you doing this?!”
“Does one need a reason to kill a longstanding enemy when coming face-to-
face with her in the Dungeon?”
There wasn’t a hint of trepidation in his steely voice.
At a time like this?! Just as Aiz’s mind raced to figure out what the boaz
could be thinking, a sudden thought flashed through her head—the attack from
three days ago and its accompanying warning.
“You’d do well not to do anything rash from now on.”
“If you refuse to listen, we’ll be forced to take drastic measures.”

“Dig too deep and we can’t guarantee your life.”
“If you get in her way—we’ll kill you.”
Vana Freya, Bringar, and now the Warlord.
They all belonged to one familia and had given the same warning.
It can’t be, it can’t be, it can’t be.
Their objective was none other than—
“Drop the girl.” Ottar’s eyes pierced through the prum in Aiz’s arms as he
readied his greatsword. “Or she’ll die.”
An intense intimidating aura swelled up around him. There would be no
escaping a fight now.
From his stance alone, it was clear he wasn’t letting anyone through. Aiz
curled her lips in resentment but did as she was told.
Placing the girl on the ground, she pulled Desperate from its scabbard.
She could no longer let her attention be divided. Carrying baggage into a
battle would do nothing but ensure her defeat.
The soldier in front of her was stronger than Finn, Gareth, or Riveria—he
was truly the strongest adventurer in all of Orario.
The reigning crown. The sole Level 7.
The Warlord—Ottar.
“Come, Sword Princess,” he beckoned, his voice backed by the roar of the
ferocious bull in the passageway behind him.
Aiz’s golden eyes flashed as she sliced the air in front of her with her sword.
“Stand aside!”
The roars of the bull and the screams of the boy ringing in her ears, driving
her forward, she charged.
It was the Sword Princess versus the Warlord.
The battle between the two strongest first-tier adventurers in Orario had
begun.

She launched herself into it full force, unembellished.
A diagonal cut from the shoulder, so fast it was barely perceptible.
“—Tepid.”
“!!”
The boaz deflected her full-powered attack with his large sword as if

Desperate were nothing more than a twig.
Her body off-balance from the ricochet, she suppressed her awe, allowing the

momentum of her deflected sword to spin her around for another attack.
But once more, it was blocked.
Sparks flew. She gave up on finesse and simply went for speed.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrggggghhh—!!”
Her sword struck again and again in a merciless string of attacks.
The boy was in danger. Her mask had been discarded—she was the Sword

Princess now, and the rousing flurry of sword slashes elicited a mighty yell from
the depths of her throat.

Each and every one of her countless strikes was a killing blow as she bared
her fangs at Ottar.

She was a Level 6 now, and she had the Status to prove it.
Pouring every ounce of her top-class strength and speed into her strikes, she
showered the man in front of her with silver sparks.
“Those moves—ah, yes. You did recently reach a new level, didn’t you?”
“—”
But still, she was blocked.
Every single one of her attacks was turned aside.
His defense was impenetrable.
Against the onslaught of inescapable strikes, Ottar still shot her down.
Without even taking a step, he summoned pinpoint accuracy and mountain-
like fortitude to render each of her attacks useless with naught but the sword in
his right hand.
Desperate let out high-pitched screams as it got knocked about. She had to
wonder how the soldier even knew about her level-up considering it had never
been officially announced, but she quickly suppressed such thoughts.
With a slash that sliced through the very air itself, Ottar’s sword drove her
away.
“~~~~~~~~~~~!”
She barely managed to slip Desperate between the other sword and her chest,
but it still hurled her backward with the force of a rushing river.
Her feet dug into the ground. When she was finally able to bring herself to a
stop, she found herself directly in front of the young prum girl she’d left on the
ground. As she let her eyes follow the path she’d taken, her thoughts became a
mix of astonishment and terror.
In that single defensive blow, he’d sent her back more than ten meders.

“—Ngh!”
But she didn’t allow herself to remain dazed for long. Taking up her sword
once more, she began her attack anew.
There was no time to gawk. No time to delay.
Her enemy was blocking that passage of shadows, and she would give
everything it took to reach it.
She attacked from the side, from below, trying every angle she could to get
through that impenetrable defense.
“Just how strong will you become, Sword Princess?”
“…?!”
His sword met hers, bigger yet somehow faster than her Desperate. She tried
moving, feinting, and attacking from every possible direction, but the
impregnable fortress remained unscathed.
Aiz couldn’t contain a shudder at the contrast between his words and attacks.
His sword skills were terrifying enough as it was, but adding to them the pure
power of his physical abilities made them all the more so. It was as though she’d
changed places with Bell, no longer the teacher but the student.
He really was a megalith.
He didn’t so much as twitch at Aiz’s amped-up speed or the hurricane of
sword strikes that came with it.
Like a mighty boulder amid the raging wind, he was calm and composed.
He was a wall, and the wall wouldn’t budge. Guarding the path behind him,
he refused to take even a single step, repelling Aiz’s attacks time and time again
but never instigating any of his own.
This…This is…!
A Level 7.
No—this is the Warlord.
It had nothing to do with levels, but the brute strength of one well-trained
warrior. Aiz bit down on her lip.
“Nngh!”
With a loud noise, she was pushed backward, landing a ways away. Once
again, the gap between them had widened.
This happened four times in the span of a single minute.
Her hand was already starting to tingle around the hilt of her sword. Gaze
fixated on the expressionless boaz, her eyes flashed.
—I have to get through.
—I need to save him!

—I refuse to let him die!
Without revealing her connection with the boy, she used it as an impetus to
kick off from the ground, becoming the wind.
She unleashed the magic she’d sworn to herself never to use against another
person.
“Awaken, Tempest!!”
She was on fire.
She would do anything to reach the boy.
Wreathed in the blessing of the wind, halfway into her charge she
disappeared into the gale.
The time for hesitation was gone. She lunged toward the soldier in front of
her, holding nothing back.
“Nngh!!”
The gale strike screamed from her sword.
Ottar’s rust-colored eyes narrowed sharply, his hand turning into a blur.
The first strike was blocked.
Her eyes widened at the sight of his sword meeting Desperate, but she didn’t
stop there.
The current still flowed through her, and her next strike came at him like a
literal storm.
They clashed head-on.
“—”
Aiz could barely believe what happened next.
Her enemy followed her every move, her every raging wave, and deflected
each and every gale-like strike.
His sword absorbed the shock of her violent tempest. Though his enormous
frame trembled slightly at the fury of her raging winds, he refused to retreat or
stand down. Even when it seemed he would give in or that she had the upper
hand, his incredible maneuvers, gargantuan strength, and even the gauntlet on
his left hand all worked in sync to create continuous blocks and attacks.
The extraordinary feat of technique and strategy shut out Aiz’s storm in its
entirety.
Their levels of experience were simply too different.
Not even her Airiel, the magic that could put their abilities on the same
playing field, the blessed winds that had helped her overcome countless
battlefields before, could daunt him.
It was a cultivated mind and body that separated them.

Endless training substantiated with physical ability and combat skill.
—There’s no end to this.
As her flurry of strikes continued, each one punctuated with a tempestuous
screech, Aiz found herself in awe of the soldier’s features.
There had never before been an opponent she couldn’t best once she
unleashed the power of her wind—save that monster hybrid Levis, whose mere
existence surpassed human knowledge.
But even she was paling in comparison to the boaz before Aiz now.
This wasn’t just endless, it was preposterous.
He was practically a god.
This talent, this steadfast exertion, this unwavering determination—he was
every bit the modern-day hero.
Ottar the Warlord was, beyond a doubt, the epitome of greatness.
“Hnngh!”
“Guhh—!”
Not missing a beat, the flash of Ottar’s sword caught her armor of wind.
With one direct attack, he overcame her current and Desperate, cleaving all
the way to Aiz herself.
The staggering force carved Aiz’s thin frame into the Dungeon floor. Once
more, she was propelled backward, fists clawing at the ground, hurtling over the
top of the downed prum girl until finally—she hit the wall.
Stepping away from the edge of the room, she set aside her sword.
The current was with her. Her golden eyes pierced the soldier on the other
side of the room, the man himself bewildered by her response.
She would use it. She would finally use it. Her secret weapon.
The voices—?
From deep, deep within that passageway of darkness…
The voices had stopped.
The constant roar of the mad bull, the desperate cries of the boy fighting for
his life—all of it.
Aiz’s face contorted like a child on the verge of tears. She found the hilt of
her sword once more, gripping it tightly.
—Out of my WAY!
Heart screaming, she cast her trump card.
“—Li’l Rafaga!!”
The wind flashed.
A divine wind shot forward, making a beeline toward Ottar, so massive that it

could never be used outside the Dungeon walls.
The speed at which that leviathan wind sliced through the room made Ottar’s

eyes widen.
Muscles protruding from his massive shoulders, he gripped his sword in both

hands.
The boaz soldier swung his great silver weapon down diagonally at the

incoming strike.
“Huuurrrrrraaaaaaaaaaahh—!”
He roared.
Voice exploding from his throat like the crazed call of a monster, he met the

cyclone head-on.
It was the first time the soldier was forced to use both hands, to rely on his

full strength.
Aiz’s vision became a blur of wind, and she saw Ottar’s armor get torn from

his frame.
The impact was incredible. As the air current raged and the ground sank

beneath his feet, a tremendous explosion rocked the room.
The recoil from the resulting shock wave sent both of them flying.
The two attacks had neutralized each other.



“…”
Aiz looked up in a daze from where she’d landed on her rear end in the
middle of the room.
The control she’d been able to keep over her strength for so long, the promise
she’d made to herself never to use it against another person—
—She’d broken it.
She’d used her finishing move.
Her pure, unfiltered strength.
“…”
Ottar silently peeled himself off the passageway wall before returning to his
place in front of the entrance.
He’d lost his armor, a section of his battle clothes was ripped, and scrapes
littered his cheeks and shoulders, but that was it.
Tossing aside his sword, now heavily damaged, he grabbed a new one from
its place poking out of the ground.
The wall towered over them, calm and composed.
The single path behind him was still so far, far away.
“…Ngh!”
She didn’t let the shock afflict her for more than a moment.
Grabbing Desperate from where it had stabbed into the floor, she renewed her
charge.
Ottar responded in kind, his sword at the ready.
“Let me through!”
Sweat flying, she cut at him ruthlessly with unrelenting strikes of her blade.
Ottar didn’t respond. It was only through his continued ripostes that he made
his resolve known.
The armor-less, injured soldier versus the unscathed yet single-mindedly
slashing girl.
Step after step, their violent dance continued in an attempt to see who would
yield first—when suddenly…
“—?!”
Thunk! There was the sound of someone leaping, and Aiz saw a shadow fly
over her head, straight toward Ottar.
Down came the double-edge blade with a ferocious, air-splitting slice. The
boaz responded in surprise, raising his sword to meet it.
“What in the world is goin’ on here?!” Tiona cried out in surprise after
landing back on the ground, her attack deflected. She wasted no time setting her

sights on her companion’s opponent.
Aiz could do nothing but stare in shock at the Amazonian girl who’d caught

up with her, flourishing her oversize weapon.
“The Amazon…!”
Aiz took off at once, as the berserker immediately prepared her next attack,

and for the first time a crease formed between Ottar’s brows. His defense was
already shaken by the sheer destructive power of the Amazon’s Urga, and he was
late in responding to the incoming rain of sword strikes.

His endurance waned. He grabbed for his third sword—a long one, this time
—and wielded it in his left hand as he used it to push back the leaping Tiona.

Only…
As soon as she was gone, he was met with another shadow, this one speeding
toward him along the ground. Ottar gritted his teeth.
“Boar bastard—!”
It was Bete this time, delivering a full-bodied kick to the man he’d always
considered his rival.
Ottar raced to defend himself. No sooner had he blocked the kick than he was
met by a pair of whirling Kukri knives.
“Gnngh…!”
“What in the world is going on here?!” demanded Tione in a voice identical
to her sister’s as she joined the fray.
It was four against one now. A trio of first-tier reinforcements.
It reminded Aiz of her moonlit battle against the black-clad attackers, only
now it was time for the city’s strongest adventurer to experience the relentless
waves of attacks from Loki Familia.
From Urga’s wild swinging to Frosvirt’s incessant thrusts to the quick,
intersecting slashes of the Kukri knives.
Even the impenetrable defense of the unshakable Level 7 was liable to start
coming apart at the seams.
“Nngh!”
Aiz took advantage of that split-second opening and dashed forward.
She dived toward that single gap behind the boaz’s mighty frame.
“—Oooaaaarrrggh!!” With lightning-fast reflexes, Ottar steered his
longsword toward the side of Aiz’s head—
Only to find a pair of fang-like silver boots digging into his steely arm.
“Just try and look away from me, porky!”
“Vanargand…?!”

Bete’s kick effectively put a stop to Ottar’s attack.
Riding on the assistance of her companions, Aiz charged, disappearing down
the passage the boaz had been so adamantly guarding.
—I’m through!
Scraping together every last ounce of strength she could muster, she raced
down the path.

“…!”
Ottar’s features distorted upon witnessing the golden-haired, golden-eyed girl
rush past him.
As he staved off the incoming attacks of Tiona and her friends, the natural-
born soldier could tell already that even if he were to follow in immediate
pursuit, there was no way he could overcome the godlike speed of the Sword
Princess before she reached her destination.
“And here I was just thinking that my thumb was awfully itchy. I suppose
this is all part of the bargain, as well?” The voice of a boy came from the
direction of the standard route leading to the eighth floor, directly opposite the
opening Ottar and the others were occupying.
The boaz narrowed his eyes at the blond prum and his long spear.
“Hey, Ottar.” Finn posed, almost as though greeting an old friend.
“…Finn?” Ottar silently lowered his weapon.
Around him, the trio of first-tier adventurers remained at the ready. From
behind Finn emerged another—a high elf of unparalleled beauty.
Realizing he was more than outnumbered, the boaz conceded, his fighting
spirit gone.
Their opponent having lost his malice, Tiona, followed by Bete, took off after
Aiz down the passageway.
“Riveria! Help that prum girl!” she called.
“We still have no idea what the hell is even going on!” Bete shouted.
“Y-you two…!”
As Tione’s face twitched at her sister’s (and comrade’s) temerity, Finn and
Ottar faced each other. The two familia captains began to speak. Tione couldn’t
leave the one she cared so much about, and Riveria was already at work tending
to the blood-covered prum.
“As Bete so eloquently put it, I’m still a bit foggy as to what’s going on here.
Would you mind filling me in on why exactly you chose this time and this place
to take up arms against us, Ottar?”

“There’s no incorrect time and place to challenge an enemy.”
“Indeed. Then would it be safe to take this as the will of not only your familia
but your god, as well? Is Lady Freya hoping for all-out war between us?” Finn
asked with a smile, to which Ottar remained silent.
The sharpened tip of the prum’s spear gleamed in the Dungeon’s light.
“…I was acting independently,” he finally uttered, voice low.
Abandoning his weapons, he began walking forward. Even as Tione’s eyes
narrowed into tiny points, he proceeded toward Finn and the others undeterred.
He walked right past Finn, Tione, and Riveria, who had finished casting her
healing magic on the downed prum and was waiting beside Finn with one eye
closed.
“So long as you’re going to form your little clique, I’ve no chance of
winning,” the boaz said coolly the moment he passed them by.
“Good to know. We’re not keen on taking up arms against you, either,” Finn
replied.
Saying nothing else, Ottar made his exit, taking the same path Finn and the
others had.
He proceeded down the narrow, dim passageway, leaving his long-standing
foes behind.
“This failure will come back to haunt you,” he muttered to himself, still
losing blood from the abrasions littering his body and his fist curled as tight as a
boulder. The self-condemning words dripped with profound significance.
Eyes pointed straight ahead, he didn’t look back.
“We’ll just say you were oblivious to your own incompetence.”
From behind him came the far-off roar of a crazed bull echoing throughout
the Dungeon, accompanied by the shouts of a certain set of adventurers.
“Remove your shell, renounce all others, and confront the adventure. Focus
on nothing but the path ahead.”
His eyes flashed at these final words.
“Only then can you win her favor.”

Light up ahead was leaking its way into the single dim passageway.
“…!”
Aiz hastened at the sight, and she practically flew down the path.

Plunging into the room, her field of vision expanded instantly, eyes first
locking on to the minotaur in the middle of the room, and then the boy lying
faceup on the ground a good distance away.

Aiz’s breath caught in her throat.
The minotaur making its way toward the boy quickly became aware of Aiz’s
presence. At the same time, Aiz checked the boy for signs of life; relief flooded
through her when she confirmed the faint rise and fall of his chest.
A flurry of emotions welled up in her own chest, but she pushed everything
away and became the Sword Princess again in an instant, steering her gaze
toward the minotaur.
…?!
The aberrant beast, equipped with an adventurer’s sword, came to a stop at
Aiz’s overwhelming intensity, its fur bristling.
She didn’t even pause to ascertain the situation. She rushed forward, placing
herself in the bull’s path with her back to the downed boy.
The remnants of her Airiel created a soft breeze, fluttering the leaves of the
flowers growing from the room’s floor.
“—”
She felt a presence behind her. A gasp.
The boy had woken up, no doubt. Tossing aside her grief and sorrow, she
reinforced her grip on the hilt of her sword and stared daggers at the bull in front
of her.
“G-guwoh!” came the clearly terrified noise from the monster, to which Aiz
did not respond.
Her silence revealed the anger in her armor-clad chest.
And as that anger built, her current began to dance as well, stirring the
grasses of the room with tiny, subtle shudders.
The spirit of her honed blade swirled together with the wind.
“There she is! Aiiiiiiiz!”
“Tch, all that for this boring thing?”
Tiona and Bete, quickly followed by her sister and the others, made their way
into the room, footsteps echoing and eyes veering toward the minotaur.
Aiz still had no idea what was going on. What were Ottar and the rest of
Freya Familia trying to pull? Had they somehow tamed the minotaur? She did
know one thing, though—she would take care of this monster and she would do
it now. She wasn’t about to let the boy be injured further.
Rustle, rustle.

There was a sudden fluttering from the grasses directly behind her.
Throwing a quick glance behind her, she saw the dazed boy, the worn-out
Bell, pushing himself up to a sitting position.
“…Are you all right?”
—Are you all right?
Just like the first time they’d met.
She’d said the same thing to him when she saved him from the minotaur.
A sigh of relief passed between her lips.
“…You fought well.”
—You fought very well.
Slightly different this time.
Back then, she’d added a few words of praise and sympathy, the boy having
survived his fight against the minotaur.
Kindness filled her heart.
“I’ll take care of things now.”
—And take that thing out.
Canceling her magic, she instead directed all her power into the sword in her
hand.
But the moment her foot touched the ground to rush forward…
Suddenly…
Huh?
A resounding thump rang from the ground.
And it wasn’t from Aiz.
It wasn’t from the minotaur, either. Or from Tiona and the others.
Thud, came the noise from someone.
And they were right behind her.
As they kicked themselves up from the grass.
“?!”
Aiz spun around. At the same time, a hand grasped hers.
Her golden eyes widened in surprise.
He was standing.
The boy had recovered and risen to his feet.
Despite the cuts littering his body, his rubellite eyes were glinting, staring
past Aiz and focusing on the minotaur.
She could feel the heat radiating off his hand, currently clasped tightly in her
own.
“…No.”